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Loving me will not be easy.

Before you tell me those three words, let me warn you. Loving me is not going to be easy.

Some days you are going to feel like you hold the entire universe in the palm of your hands, ecstatic and infinite. On those days, your life will be a blur of colours in shades you would never have dreamed of, and you will want to stand on tree tops and shout your happiness into the world, letting it seep through the night air, breathing life back into many souls.

And, on other days, you will feel like the azure skies, always there but overlooked, taken for granted. And your heart will bleed in shades of melancholic blue.

These are the two types of days that you are guaranteed to feel. But, there will be a third kind of day, the one as rare as the blue moon. The one you will never see coming. And, on these days, you will feel the dark clouds of despair hanging over your head, just waiting to give birth to a raging and screaming thunderstorm inside your ribcage. You will feel like the man standing on the middle of an empty and lonely road, refusing to move no matter how many times the lightning strikes him, repeatedly. And you will be the one, staring out the window, hoping for someone to shout happiness into your soul from the tree tops.

My eyes, empty and devoid of any kind of emotion for you, will haunt your days. You will feel like an insect trapped inside a Venus flytrap. You will be the little kid who plays with the light switch because he has nothing better to do; your feelings constantly flickering between light and dark, between wanting to leave but not knowing how. And you will hate yourself for it.

And when I scribble something on pieces of paper and crumple and throw them in frustration, you will pick up the pieces after I’ve gone to bed, and smooth out the wrinkles and read the verses, all the while convincing yourself that they are for you, and all the while knowing deep inside your heart, that they’re not. And, when you’re lying in bed with the verses dancing behind your eyelids, the fragmented ends of my unfinished poetry will stab you a thousand different ways and make you feel pain in places you thought it was impossible to feel.

You will constantly compare your life to a box with a tiny hole on top, a means of an escape, but too tiny to squeeze through, and one that will leave you with cuts and bruises if you ever tried. So, you being a coward, will take the easy road. You will stay. You will stay, even though the door is, and always has been, wide open. You will stay, because you know that even if you leave, traces of me will always linger in, and on you.

And on the good days, where you wake up cheerful and determined to make everything better, you will print inspirational quotes from the internet and hang them all over the walls of our living room, believing that, eventually, things will get better, of course they will, they always do. Don’t they?

No.

So, before you tell me those three words, let me warn you. Loving me will not be easy. So, run. Run while you still have the chance.

Because, your heart will never be whole, and my heart will never be yours.

-Rupali Jeganathan | The Girl Lost In The BookstoreI know I have been absent from the blog for a while. Okay, more than a while. I apologize. I’ll real all your blogs soon, okay? I missed you guys! Did you miss me, too? *puppy dog face*Follow me on Instagram.

Loving is always very easy if it’s true love; it’s also fulfilling in itself, no matter the response; and then it’s also irresistible: it wins all hearts sooner or later (and in case it did not, it wouldn’t matter, since the goal is love, not the hearts).
But of course you write about the more usual, conditioned love –love as a means for obtaining something else– and very well indeed. 🙂

❤❤❤ mannn I LOVE THIS :’)
It’s so weird because I was trying to write something very similar to this but I am an awkward penguin who knows nothing about romance, so joke’s on me hahahaha.
This is perfect. The stuff in my head. It’s in words. And only better. Like what sorcery is this xD

My Miss Book Thief,
You steal hearts as well. I enjoyed reading it. Cause these words were my word to all the people who’ve given me theirs perfectly and affectionately. Run as fast as you can, before my heart makes you my poetry.
Cause poets are brutally honest, they don’t hide, they let their feelings flow on paper.
So, happy to read all these. ❤